


Ripples

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [16]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Timeline, Bottom!Nathan, Consent Issues, Curtis having some problems about the fact Alisha used her power on him, Embarrassment, F/M, M/M, Pervert!Simon, envy - Freeform, mention of watersports, so much embarrassment, very vague mention of that piss enema thing again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 15:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18813967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: Set roughly at the same time asAlisha Versus Rubber Sheets and Rose Petals, so approximately mid season 2.Just Curtis reflecting on things; all the Simon-Nathan shagging he and the girls keep walking in on, his relationship with Alisha, his vision of the future-





	Ripples

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: For discussions of sexual assault and people not really understanding consent.
> 
> I like Curtis- so here, have some Curtis. Admittedly mainly a Curtis dealing with the way Simon and Nathan shag everywhere, but still some Curtis. Yay for Curtis! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and for the comments and kudos you've been leaving on this series!

First time he walked in on them he’d just gone for a piss, yeah, and he finds Nathan pinning Simon to the wall next to the urinal. Nathan’s wanking Simon with one hand, the other one holding Simon’s hand up to his mouth so he can suck on his fingers. There’s a lot of intense eye-contact there, but he doesn’t wait around to see what happens next— because he’s not gay and he’s not a pervert— just turns the fuck around and walks back out. 

Next time it’s on the roof. Alisha’s lost an earring and so the two of them have been looking all over for it— they had lunch up there, him and her, before creeping off to one of the storage rooms for a mutual wank and a bit of a chat— and he’s backtracking everywhere they went before she noticed it was gone. They’re on one of the chairs, this leather recliner— Simon and Nathan. Simon underneath, Nathan on top— the latter stripped all the way out of his jumpsuit and wearing only a t-shirt.

He’s riding him, at least that’s what it looks like. From where he’s standing mostly he can see the back of the chair and a slice of their sides— ‘Oh God, so good. Fuck me Barry!’ is what the curly haired prick is whining. He’s about to turn around and leave, again, when Nathan’s eyes slit open and he must spot him, because the riding stops, stutters for a brief second, a look of shame and embarrassment creeping over that obnoxious face, before something firms those hazel eyes and the riding recommences, faster than before. A series of loud, high-pitched moans escape from Nathan’s mouth, not even sounding that fake, for all the twat’s expression pretty much reads “have a problem with this, I dare you.”

Next time it’s him and Alisha, and the setting is their usual storage room— except Simon and Nathan have gotten there first. Simon’s got Nathan face-first up against the wall, hips grinding away, tiny, little kitten-like mewls being pushed out around Simon’s fingers in the other’s mouth with every thrust. ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ Alisha snaps, which catches their attention and makes Simon start bellowing that they’re not allowed to look at Nathan.

Neither of them are really listening at that point, because Alisha storms off and he rushes to follow her. It takes a while for her to calm down— jealousy, that they can touch. He gets it, he does. He sometimes feels jealous too— but he’d rather have her than get his dick sucked by every fit girl on the estate, so he just has to accept it. 

It keeps happening after that. It’s like Simon and Nathan— no, he’d bet it’s just _Nathan,_ Simon getting sucked along in his wake— so, yeah, it’s like Nathan thinks the Community Centre is his own sexual playground. If he wants to shag his boyfriend he will shag his boyfriend, no matter how inappropriate it is to shag his boyfriend wherever the impulse has struck. Or how fucked up whatever it is the two of them are up to— like the other day, when they’d all walked in on— well, not something he ever thought people did. Like, _ever._ Not even Simon and whatever his weird kinks are— it’s not like he’s forgotten the guy apparently thinks about pissing on girls’ tits— but there’s that, and then there’s— you know— _up inside someone._

They go out for drinks one night, him, Alisha, and Kelly— away from the other two and the knowledge they’d just end up shagging in the toilets at the bar— and they end up comparing notes. Kelly talking about finding them up where Nathan’s sleeping and once in the kitchens, Alisha about catching them in the toilets with the door not shut properly, in the hall, on the couch in the probation worker’s office, him with his own stories. They don’t even need to go over all the times they’ve been together when they’ve caught the two of them, but they do anyway. In the end they reach an agreement that when it started Nathan was a bit shyer, or at least had the decency to look embarrassed if you walked in on him with a cock up his arse, but as time passes he’s just getting bolder. It’s fucking ridiculous, he thinks, some added absurdity to the joke their lives have become since the Storm. 

At least _most_ of the time during the day they stick to the toilets, but man Nathan is loud. Either he’s faking it in the most obnoxious way anyone’s ever faked it, or Simon really knows how to put that fucked-up fat little cock to good use. He kind of wishes he didn’t know what the two of them look like, down there, but— at this point he even thinks the probation worker would pick them both out of a cock only line-up. 

He asked Alisha about it once, if guys that are that thick actually feel good. It’s been curiosity, nothing more— he knows he’s got nothing to be ashamed of in that department, he might not be as thick as Simon but he thinks his proportions are less weird looking. Anyway, he’s never had any complaints. Alisha’d wrinkled up her nose and said it depends on the girl, that her friend Chloe always liked fat ones, but she preferred the guy to know what he was doing with it— and if it was too fat it’d hurt and you needed stretching first, but most guys were too impatient so they’d just stick it in anyway. She’d looked a bit upset after that, and he’d wished he could touch her properly, hold her hand or something.

Her power has always seemed so unfair to him. _Cruel._ He’s got relatives that would say it was God punishing her for the way she is, for enjoying sex and sleeping around, but that version of God’s not his God. His God would never do something like that to any girl, let alone one like her. Funny and smart and sweet under all the bluster and bullshit. It’s not right. 

And yeah— sometimes he wakes in the night and it’s like being in the toilets again once she stopped touching him, and he feels weird, skin crawling, like something’s going to happen to him and he’s got no power to stop it— and sometimes she moves in a way that part of his mind interprets as her suddenly going to touch him, and it’s all he can do not to flinch— but the more he’s gotten to know her the more he forgives her and the more he realises she’s not good with that stuff. Consent. It’s like no one ever told her she’s allowed to say no, that people don’t have to want sex all the time, or have sex even if they want it, and if someone doesn’t want to fuck her it doesn’t mean they’re rejecting her. 

He’s thankful to his parents, because he knows they did their best to raise him to be a good man, to teach him about boundaries— his own as well as others— and to try not to go through life with a hateful heart. They’re disappointed in him, for what he did, the coke— but even then he’s never felt like they don’t love him anymore. 

He wonders, sometimes, about Alisha’s parents. 

He wonders even more about Nathan’s. 

He hates that Alisha is jealous of the little prick. Hates that he is too. It’s not even just the sex, or at least not for him, and he thinks not for her either. It’s all the times when Nathan will just drape himself over Simon, or sit on him, or hold his hand, or Simon will walk beside Nathan with his hand placed proprietarily on is lower back, or brush a curl behind his ear— or the times when he finds them after they’ve fallen asleep together, all tangled up like they can’t bear the thought of not touching even for a second— he wants that, skin on skin, or even skin to clothes without the worry someone will slip. Even if he and Alisha could never have the full fuck, even if all they could do was wank themselves— or each other— off for all eternity, he wishes he could hold her in his arms while they were doing it. 

Except, sometimes he worries he’ll freak out if they ever can touch. That his midnight fears will strike him and he’ll do something, say something, and she’ll end up hurt. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He does want to touch her. Except sometimes he doesn’t know how he’ll feel about her just being able to reach out and touch _him._

He’ll have to work this shit out soon though, if that vision he had after taking that pill is anything to go by. He’s told her about it— except for all the things he held back. In it they were on a bed together, skin to skin, and he was kissing her, holding her, saying he’s _been waiting for this, dying for a chance to eat her pussy_ — but there was another girl there too— well fit— beside them on the bed, kissing him, kissing her, and after he spoke this girl was saying _you want his tongue darling, or mine, or his cock first?— because you can have them all before the night’s over._

It’s like some teenage boy’s wank fantasy— and like a teenage boy every now and then he catches himself thinking maybe people will be jealous of _him_ if it comes to pass— it’s stupid though. He doesn’t need it to come to pass, what he _needs_ is to be able to touch his girlfriend. That’s it. That’s all—


End file.
